


uncommon threads

by spinnerofyarns



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: F/M, Knitting, way too much dumb knitting jargon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-18 12:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11874894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinnerofyarns/pseuds/spinnerofyarns
Summary: Monica quits smoking and takes up knitting to keep her hands busy. She happens to come to the same weekly Knit Night as Jared, and they strike up a friendship that turns into something more.Cute soft fluff where nothing bad happens.





	uncommon threads

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this cute soft Jared/Monica fic because when I update the alcoholic AU it will Destroy Your Hearts.

            Monica checks the webpage on her phone one more time before pushing open the door of Uncommon Threads. A bell over the door jingles to announce her presence and she cringes.

            The woman behind the counter looks about Laurie’s age, with frizzy red-brown hair and brown eyes behind purple-framed glasses.

            “Hi!” she says. “How can I help you?”

            “Um, I’m here for Knit Night?” Monica asks. “That’s today, right?”

            “Yep, every Thursday night. It starts in 10 minutes, if you want you can drop your stuff here and go grab a drink at Starbucks. I’m Rachel, by the way.”

            “Monica. Nice to meet you!” Monica sets her purse down on a comfy armchair.

            “How long have you been knitting, Monica?” Rachel asks, coming over and rearranging some yarn on the shelf behind her.

            “Um…not long.” Monica admits. “My grandma taught me when I was about 10 but I sort of forgot, and just picked it up a few days ago when my boyfriend dumped me and I decided to quit smoking. I needed something to do with my hands, you know?”

            Rachel nods. “So you’re a newbie. That’s fantastic, we haven’t had any new members since – well, look what the cat dragged in!” The bell jingles again, and Monica hears a familiar soft reedy voice.

            “Are you sure you don’t want any help carrying that, Gloria?”

            Another, more grandmotherly voice responds “I’m all right, Jared, I’m old, not dying.”

            Monica turns around to see the familiar long-legged form of Jared Dunn, accompanied by a woman old enough to be his grandmother. This must be the Gloria he talks so much about.

            Both of them are laden down with bags, and Monica and Rachel rush over to help them.

            “You haven’t come to Knit Night in weeks, Jared, we’ve missed you,” Rachel says as Jared hands her a Whole Foods tote bag.

            “I know, I know, and I brought pumpkin spice muffins and pear cider to bribe my way back into your good graces,” Jared says, bending to kiss Rachel on the cheek. When he straightens up, he catches sight of Monica.

            “Well!” he says. “Fancy seeing you here.”

            “You know each other?” Rachel asks, heading back to set the Whole Foods bag on the coffee table.

            “We work together,” Jared says. “Monica’s VC firm is financing the startup I work for.”

            “I thought you’d left that startup,” Gloria says disapprovingly. Jared makes a face and says “It’s complicated. I’ll tell you later.” He unpacks the bags on the table, taking out several containers of muffins and two six-packs of cider.

            “So, Monica,” he says. “What brings you to Uncommon Threads?”

            “I just…thought I’d pick up a new hobby.” Monica shrugs. “I’ve…well, I quit smoking, and I needed something to keep my hands busy when I get stressed. But enough about me, why did you start knitting?”

            “One of my friends in college taught me to knit,” Jared says, sitting down and pulling a small black drawstring pouch out of his bag. “And when I moved out here and met Gloria, she brought me to Knit Night.” He takes an ethereal-looking beaded lace shawl out of the pouch and starts working on it. Monica watches, fascinated, as his long delicate fingers manipulate the fine yarn around shiny silvery needles. Her own project, a plain scarf in chunky purple yarn on thick bamboo needles, suddenly feels boring and inadequate. But she takes a deep breath and pulls it out of her purse to start working on it. After a few stuttering rows, she looks up to find Gloria watching her hands.

            “You knit continental,” Gloria says. “That’s not common for people your age, who taught you to knit?”

            “My grandmother,” Monica says. “She was…Austrian, I think?”

            “Ah, that explains it,” Gloria says. “What did you say your name was, again?”

            “Monica. And you’re Gloria, right? Jared talks about you often.” She sees the tips of Jared’s ears turn pink as Gloria turns to him.

            “All good things!” he says. “You’re like the kind caring grandmother I never had.”

            Gloria ruffles his hair. “And you’re the attentive grandson I never had.”

            Jared blushes, and Monica feels like she’s intruding on some sort of family moment. But it comforts her to know that, no matter how underappreciated he may be at Pied Piper, Jared has someone looking out for him and treating him right.

            The bell jingles again, and a young woman with an overstuffed black backpack comes in. _She must be a student,_ Monica thinks.

            “Hi, Jess,” Jared says.

            “Jared! You still exist!” Jess sets her backpack on the floor and falls into a chair. “We thought you’d abandoned us.”

            “I was…busy,” Jared says. “I brought your favorite muffins, and I went a little crazy and added dried cranberries this time.”

            “Oooh, sweet!” Jess reaches for a muffin. “Welcome back,” she says. “And – hey, are you new?” she asks Monica.

            Monica nods.

            “Fuck, sorry, I’m so rude. I’m Jess.” She pulls some sort of brightly colored patchwork mass out of her backpack. “Nice to meet you.”

            “Likewise. I’m Monica. What are you working on? It looks cool!”

            “A sock yarn blanket,” Jess says. “I’ve been collecting sock yarn leftovers for a while now, and just adding squares on as I go.” Jess shrugs. “It’s kind of chaotic but I love it. Pretty good analogy for grad school too.”

            A few more people trickle in, greet Jared warmly, and sit down in the armchairs around the circle.

            Rachel stands up to make an announcement.

            “First, I’m sure you’ve all noticed two people here. Jared’s back – welcome back, honey, we missed you – and we’ve got a newbie. Everyone, meet Monica.”

            Monica waves awkwardly, and Rachel continues. “Jared’s brought pumpkin muffins – they’re gluten-free and made with almond flour and totally vegan – and, for the over-21s, pear cider. And one last thing: something went tits-up with a Malabrigo delivery, so…” she ducks behind the counter and emerges with a large box, “you can keep whatever you can untangle.”

            Jess drops her blanket and pulls a snarl of yarn out of the box. “Oh yeah, come to mama,” she says. The gangly curly-haired guy next to her, who reminds Monica of a mix of Jared and Richard, reaches for another tangle of yarn.

            “Michael, I think yours is tangled with mine,” Jess says. Michael laughs.

            “I swear it wasn’t on purpose,” he says.

            “Sure it wasn’t,” Jared quips. “I’m telling you, I’d better be invited to your wedding.”

            “I told you, love is a lie and marriage is a bourgeois construct,” Jess says. “We’re in an open anarchic relationship.”

            “Oh, you kids,” Gloria says, without looking up from the child-sized sweater she’s knitting, “Everyone can tell you love each other, stop dancing around the point and admit it.”

            Once again, Monica feels like she’s crashing a family. But Jared makes eye contact with her and smiles warmly, and a few seconds later gets up and moves to the armchair next to her.

            “Are you okay?” he asks.

            Monica shrugs and keeps knitting. “I’m fine,” she answers. “I just…I feel like I’ve crashed a family party or something. You’re all so close with each other and I’m this weird newbie who only knows one person.”

            “When I started coming here I only knew Gloria,” Jared says. “We don’t bite. I promise. We were all weird newbies once.”

            “Yeah but…I also can’t really knit,” Monica admits.

            “You seem to be knitting just fine,” Jared says, taking the end of her scarf in his hands and examining it.

            “This is about all I can do,” Monica says. “Like I can’t do whatever Jess is doing with her blanket, Michael’s pointy metal hedgehog scares me, Gloria is light-years ahead of me with that sweater, and what you’re making…well, it looks like something Princess Diana probably wore. And I just have this dumb crooked lumpy scarf.”

            “Monica, I’ve been knitting for _years_ ,” Jared says. “Everything takes time, and everyone starts with a crooked lumpy scarf. Baby steps. If you’d like, I can teach you how to purl, so you’ll have both building blocks in your arsenal.”

            “Purl?” Monica asks.

            Jared nods. “It’s like a knit stitch, but backwards. If a knit is a 1, a purl is a 0, and every other design is made up of those two blocks. It’s like binary code. Here, let me show you.”

            Monica hands the needles over and watches as Jared makes several stitches before handing them back to her. “Now you try,” he says.

            Monica takes the needles and slowly, haltingly, repeats Jared’s motions.

            “Good!” Jared says as she makes another stitch. “You’re getting the hang of it.” He smiles. “I can show you a pretty neat beginner scarf pattern, it’s the one I started with. If you want to undo this and start over…”

            “Okay,” Monica says, taking the needles out and unraveling her scarf. As she winds the yarn back around the ball, she asks “So why did you start knitting?”

            “When I started college, I…I wasn’t in a great place, mentally.” Jared says. “I didn’t have such a good childhood, and as a result I was anxious and depressed and had nightmares almost every night. Eventually it got so bad that I was scared to fall asleep. One of my friends from a cappella taught me how to knit, to help relieve some of my stress, and it really helped. A lot.” He knits a few more stitches on his beaded shawl. “What about you?” he asks. “What brought you here?”

            “Well,” Monica says, “my shitty boyfriend broke up with me, and I decided to make some changes in my life. So I quit smoking, and started knitting to keep my hands busy. And…I need a change of pace, cause he got most of our Bay Area friends. So…here I am. Now, how do I start this scarf?”

            “Okay,” Jared says, “you cast on 32 stitches, then slip the first one, then knit, purl, knit..”

            By the end of the night, Monica has about a foot of her new scarf on her needles, and knows more about Jared and his friends than she expected to find out. Jess talks animatedly about the developmental psych study she’s running at Stanford. Michael’s mess of needles turns out to be a sock in progress. Rachel’s teenage daughter Emily comes home from ballet around 8 and, after dashing upstairs for a quick shower, joins the group, working on a glittery silver poncho.

            (Rachel makes a face at her choice of yarn. “Teenagers,” she sighs.)

            Around 9, people start packing up their knitting. Monica tucks her scarf away and helps Rachel and Jared clean up the muffin wrappers and empty cider bottles. Jared gives Jess and Michael the remaining cider, and consolidates the leftover muffins into a single container for Rachel.

            Gloria helps him pack up the remaining containers and as they walk out, Monica hears her asking “So why are you back at that start-up? You told me you were done with them.”

\----

            The following week, Monica stops by a vegan bakery and gets some gluten-free vegan cookies for the meeting. Jared and Gloria are already there when she arrives, Jared sitting and helping Rachel wind a hank of yarn into a ball.

            “Hey guys,” Monica says, setting down her bag. “I brought cookies, they’re gluten-free and vegan and taste amazing.”

            “Oh, bless you!” Rachel puts down the ball she’s winding. She helps Monica unpack and open the containers of cookies. “Jared, do you want one?”

            Jared, his hands full of yarn, nods. Rachel hands him a cookie and he maneuvers his tangled hands to eat it, in tiny bites. “Thank you, Monica,” he says. “It’s fantastic. And…possibly the first thing I’ve eaten today, I just realized. Oops.”

            “Jared!” Gloria fixes him with a concerned and disappointed look. “Go get something to eat right now, I’ll handle the yarn!”

            Jared sighs but obeys, handing the yarn over to Gloria and heading for the door. “I’ll be right back,” he says.

            Monica sits down and pulls her scarf out of her bag. “Rachel, do you have any yarn that would match this?” she asks. “I’m almost out.”

            Rachel takes the scarf and examines the yarn. “Hmm, I don’t think I have this precise shade, but I have two that are lighter, you could do a gradient or ombre or whatever it’s called these days.”

            “Ooh, that sounds pretty cool actually,” Monica says.

            Rachel picks up two balls of yarn. “Okay, I’ll just ring you up…”

            Monica follows her to the register and swipes her card for the yarn.

            “Thanks, Rachel,” she says. “You’re a lifesaver.”

            “Of course. Do you want me to teach you how to join a new color?”

            “Would you? That would be great. I…well, I don’t really know anything,” Monica admits.

            “You’re a quick learner though,” Rachel says. “I watched Jared teaching you last week.”

            “Jared’s a good teacher,” Monica says.

            “He wanted to be a teacher,” Gloria pipes up. “He told me once that if student debt hadn’t been an issue, he would have become a teacher, or a school counselor.”

            Monica suddenly realizes how little she actually knows about Jared. “I could see that,” she says. “He’s unfailingly patient and kind.”

            At that moment, the bell jingles, announcing Jared’s return. He sits down on the couch next to Monica and digs into his Whole Foods salad. “Sorry,” he says, covering his mouth. “Richard and I had non-stop meetings all day, I sort of…forgot to eat.”

            Monica makes a mental note to order some kind of snacks for their next meeting at Bream Hall. It’s probably not the first time Jared’s gone hungry during a busy day.

            Rachel comes over to Monica’s side. “Okay, are you ready to add that new yarn?”

            “Yeah,” Monica says.

            “Okay, you need about one more row of your old yarn, which it looks like you have. So now you take your new yarn, and…” She guides Monica through the motions of joining a new ball of yarn.

            “Thanks,” Monica says, as she starts the next row with the new yarn.

            Jared finishes his salad and takes his knitting out of his bag. The shawl has grown a little in the past week, and Jared’s added a new lace design, one that looks like clusters of leaves.

            “That’s beautiful,” Monica says. “How did you get the beads on it?”

            “A tiny crochet hook,” Jared explains. “I picked up individual stitches and slid the beads on before knitting through. It’s pretty easy if you want to try it.”

            Monica laughs. “Maybe let me get the hang of this scarf first, okay? I keep dropping stitches.”

            “Everyone does,” Jared reassures her. “You’ll figure it out. My first scarf was sort of a zig zag cause I kept dropping and adding stitches.”

            “My first swatch was full of holes,” Rachel says. “My mom thought moths had gotten to it.”

            Jared laughs. “And now here I am making holes on purpose,” he says, holding up his shawl. “How the tables have turned.”

            The bell over the door jingles, announcing Jess and Michael. Jess immediately falls into an armchair, grabs a cookie, and groans. “ _Midterms_.”

            Monica winces. “Eating your soul?” she asks.

            “I have 2 papers due this week, and 3 exams, and I really should be studying right now but I just…can’t.” Jess says, pulling the monster blanket out of her backpack. “Plus now we’ve got the data from the study I’ve been working on, so I’ve got to start processing that too.”

            “Oh _no,_ ” Jared cringes. “Well, it’s important to schedule time for breaks and self care.”

            Gloria raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t expect that from you, of all people, considering you never do it for yourself.”

            “I did in college!” Jared defends himself. “Now I’m just…busy.”

            “That’s when you need it most, though,” Monica says, and makes another mental note to order a spa gift certificate for Jared.

            Jared stands up and throws his Whole Foods container into the recycling bin behind the register. When he returns and picks up his shawl again, Monica sees that he’s blushing. It’s endearing.

            The cookies get devoured quickly – though Rachel manages to save one for Emily – and Monica feels like she’s finally done something right and has been accepted into the inner circle.

            Michael finishes his sock, and immediately puts it on to take a photo. “I run a knitting Instagram,” he explains. “I’ve been posting sock pictures from all over Palo Alto.”

            “That sounds really cool,” Monica says. “What’s your handle? I want to see what else you’ve made!”

            “It’s stitchnkvetch,” Michael says. “With like…an n instead of the word ‘and’.”

            Monica pulls out her phone and finds Michael’s Instagram. “Awesome,” she says, scrolling through the pictures. She pauses on one of a long colorful scarf wrapped around one of the abstract sculptures on the Stanford campus. “That is really neat,” she says.

            Jared looks over her shoulder. “Oh, yarnbombing! When I was in college, we made hats and scarves for all the statues on the Vassar campus, and donated them to a local shelter after taking some photos,” he says. “It’s a knitting club tradition now. But how did you get it all the way up there?”

            “Magic. And a ladder. But that’s a really cool idea, I should see if the Stanford knitting club wants to do something like that.” Michael says.

            Jared nods.

            For a few minutes they sit in silence, knitting. Monica keeps getting distracted by Jared’s hands, his long delicate fingers expertly manipulating the yarn.

            _I’ll never be that good,_ she thinks.

            “Comparing yourself to others won’t do you any good,” Gloria says, as though she’s read Monica’s mind.

            Monica starts, blinking confusedly at Gloria.

            “Focus on finishing your own scarf, chickadee,” Gloria continues, looking at Monica’s project. “Knitting is a process. You’ll get there eventually.”

\----

            That night, Monica dreams about Jared, about his large hands touching her everywhere as he kisses her and she moans and sighs into his mouth, “I love you, I love you.”

            She wakes up with a pounding heart and a feeling of extreme confusion, and during her meeting with Richard and Jared she can barely look him in the eye.

            After the meeting, he hangs back for a few seconds. “Monica,” he says, “would you mind passing this on to Laurie?” He takes a tissue-paper-wrapped parcel out of his bag. “I made a sweater and hat and booties for her baby, but I didn’t finish it in time for the baby shower, because…well, you know. Things came up.”

            Monica nods. “Of course.”

            “Thanks,” Jared says. “I’ll see you at Knit Night next week, right?”

            “Definitely,” Monica says.

            Jared smiles, and waves as he follows Richard out.

            Monica drops the gift off in Laurie’s office at the end of the day, and watches her unwrap it to reveal a beautiful cardigan in a soft mint green, and a matching hat and tiny little booties. Laurie actually cracks a smile, a rare event for her.

            “It’s very cute,” she says. “I’ll have to remember to thank Jared next time I see him.”

            _It must be the pregnancy hormones making her so nice,_ Monica thinks, and makes a note to negotiate vacation time before Laurie goes on maternity leave.

\----

            On Thursday, Jared texts Monica around noon.

            _Do you want to meet up for dinner before Knit Night?_

            Monica checks her calendar – nothing else scheduled for the day – and texts back _Sure! Where?_

 _Let’s meet outside the shop, I know a good pizza place nearby that has gluten free pizza that doesn’t taste like cardboard._ Jared answers.

            _Sounds great, see you tonight!_ Monica writes.

            Jared’s waiting outside the store when she arrives.

            “I’m so sorry, have you been waiting long?” Monica asks.

            Jared shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. We’ve got plenty of time. The pizza place is just down the street here.”

            Monica follows him about a block down the street to a tiny pizzeria with lacy curtains and a flowerbox in the window.

            “This is the best gluten-free crust I’ve found out here,” Jared explains. “Doesn’t quite beat the place I went to in college, but it’s close.”

            He holds the door for Monica and she follows him in.

            “You went to Vassar, right?” she says. Jared nods.

            “So what brought you out here?” Monica asks. “Why move all the way across the country?”

            Jared shrugs as they make their way up to the counter. “After I graduated, I worked in Nancy Pelosi’s office in DC for a while, and then Google offered me a job, and I had student loans to pay off, and, well…I ended up staying out here.”    

            They order their pizza and sit down.

            “You must miss your family,” Monica says.

            Jared sighs. “I…don’t really have a family, as such. I grew up in foster care – my mom died when I was little, and my father was never in the picture. I found him, a few years ago, but…he’s not a man I’m proud to be biologically related to.” He runs a hand through his hair and smiles. “But enough about me, what about you? I know you went to Princeton, so you’ve also travelled a fair bit to get here.”

            Monica nods. “I actually worked in DC for a while too – in Obama’s office, when he was a congressman, and then on his campaign for a while. We probably overlapped for a bit, actually. And then…I just needed a change of pace. I moved out here, got an MBA, and Peter just scooped me up and offered me a job.” She picks up her slice of pizza and takes a bite.

            “That’s interesting,” Jared says. “We probably did overlap in DC, it’s funny to think we could have run into each other.”

            Monica nods, swallowing her pizza. “We probably did,” she says. She wonders, briefly, if she would have gotten along with Jared then. If he would have gotten along with her.

            They finish their pizza – Jared, Monica learns, is quite probably the only person in the world who can eat pizza gracefully – and walk back to the yarn store just as Jess is arriving.

            “What, no Michael today?” Jared asks, holding the door open for her.

            “He has rehearsal,” Jess says. “Tech Week. The show opens tomorrow night, I could probably get you guys tickets if you want to come.”

            “That would be wonderful!” Jared says. “Count me in. Monica?”

            “Sure,” Monica says. “I’m free tomorrow.”

            “Sweet, I’ll text Michael,” Jess says.

            When Rachel greets them, Jared pulls a paper-wrapped package out of his bag. “Happy unforgivably late birthday,” he says. “I would have had it done on time, but things happened at work.”

            Monica cringes, somehow feeling indirectly responsible.

            Rachel unwraps the package to reveal the beaded shawl Jared’s been working on, finished and sparkling in the light.

            “Oh, Jared, it’s lovely,” she says, pulling him into a hug. “But why do you never make anything for yourself?”

            Jared blushes and stammers out some sort of excuse about selfishness and indulgence. Rachel frowns at him.

            “Nope, that’s silly. Tell you what, I’m not selling you any more yarn until you promise to make something for yourself, and I just got some truly luscious hand-dyed sock yarn…”

            “You’re terrible,” Jared says.

            “Come on, Jared,” Monica says. “You like sweaters, and you’re a good person. You deserve a nice comfy hand-knit sweater.”

            “Can’t I just make a hat? Or some socks? A full sweater is way too indulgent,” Jared protests.

            “That’s exactly why you need one, to break you out of that mindset,” Rachel says. “Your compulsive self-denial is unhealthy. Plus I have exactly a sweater’s worth of this blue Malabrigo that would look absolutely gorgeous with your complexion, come here.”

            Jared and Monica follow Rachel to a shelf where she grabs a skein of wool mottled in different shades of blue and purple, and holds it up to Jared’s face.

            “Look at that,” she says. “Your eyes look so lovely with this palette. Come on.”

            Jared sighs. “Okay, you wore me down. I’ll do it.”

            “Yay!” Monica and Rachel both cheer, and Jared grabs a few more skeins and follows Rachel to the register so she can ring him up.

            “What’s that going to be?” Gloria asks as Jared sits down. Monica sits down too, in what has become “her” armchair, and pulls out her almost-finished scarf. Just a few more rows left before she needs to figure out how to bind off.

            “A sweater,” Jared says, sinking his slender fingers into the wool, slightly mesmerized by it.

            “Oooh, for whom?” Gloria asks.

            “Me,” Jared says, so softly it’s barely audible, like if he admits to it out loud some higher power will smite him.

            Gloria ruffles his hair. “Good for you, honey. It’s about time you made something for yourself.” She turns to Monica. “He’s made me at least three shawls, two hats, and a cardigan. And never even a pair of socks for himself. I keep telling him, if he keeps giving like that there won’t be any of him left soon.”

            “It’s just knitwear,” Jared murmurs.

            “It’s not, though, is it? You gave up your perfectly good apartment to sleep in a garage and work for Richard’s startup – you know what I think about that already – and I still can’t forget the time you came over at 2 AM when the power went out in that storm, just to make sure I was okay. And you were a nervous wreck! Not to mention,” she adds, “I know _exactly_ how Muriel got into that assisted-living place. There needs to be a line, Jared, you need to set a boundary and stop giving bits of yourself away to anyone who asks for them. That’s no way to live, sparrow, take it from me.” She pats Jared’s hand. “The sweater’s a good first step. You want me to hold that yarn so you can wind it? My arthritis is acting up today and my hands are too sore to knit, but I want to be helpful.”

            Jared nods, and helps Gloria get the yarn unwound and wrapped around her hands so he can start winding it into a ball.

            Rachel falls heavily into the armchair beside Monica’s. “Oy, what a day,” she says. “Emily’s school had parent-teacher conferences all day and apparently she’s barely passing chemistry. Plus I think I strained my back picking up a box of yarn.”

            “I could tutor Emily,” Jess says. “I minored in chemistry in undergrad. And I’ll accept payment in yarn.”

            “Oh, bless you,” Rachel says, then glances at Monica’s project. “You look like you’re practically done, want me to show you how to bind off?”

            “Would you?” Monica asks. “That would be amazing.”

            Rachel takes the needles and guides Monica through a simple bind-off. “Look at you, with your first project already done!” she says.

            Jared puts down his half-wound ball of yarn to clap. Gloria does a loose approximation of jazz hands from her position as a yarn holder.

            “So,” Rachel says, as Monica admires the finished scarf. “What do you want to do next?”

            “Um…I think I’d like to try making a hat,” Monica says.

            “Great! What color? Purple, to match your scarf?” Rachel suggests.

            “I was thinking blue, actually,” Monica says, glancing at Jared.

            Rachel smiles. “Blue it is. Now, do you want a circular needle or a set of double-points? I personally recommend the circular needle for your first hat…”

            By the time everyone starts packing up, Monica has a solid inch of a hat on her needles. It would be more, but she kept twisting the join until Jared showed her how to align the stitches.

            “Jared!” she calls after him as they leave. He turns, a questioning look on his face.

            “Do you want to get coffee after our meeting tomorrow? Or tea or something?” Monica asks. “There’s a place near the office that has an amazing selection of both.”

            “I would,” Jared says. “But Richard…”

            “Is a grown man,” Gloria butts in, “and perfectly capable of taking care of himself for an hour. You deserve a break, and Monica’s a perfectly lovely person for you to take that break with.”

            Monica and Jared both blush at this.

            “Well,” he says, “okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

            “Tomorrow.” Monica waves, and heads to her car.

\----

            The next day after their meeting, Monica and Jared walk to Monica’s favorite café, where she watches as Jared reads the tea menu, wide-eyed like a kid in a candy store.

            “I like the almond green tea,” she says, “if you’re looking for a recommendation.”

            Jared ends up getting exactly that, and Monica gets a vanilla chai latte. They sit at a small table by the window, and Monica asks Jared how the sweater is going.

            “Pretty well,” Jared says. “I’ve got about half the back done. How’s your hat?”

            “Well, now that it’s not twisted, it’s going great!” Monica says. Jared laughs.

            “My first hat turned into a Moebius strip,” he says. “One of my friends actually borrowed it to use as part of an art project, so it wasn’t a total failure.”

            “You see like you had a way better time in college than I did,” Monica says. “I just studied all week, got drunk every weekend, and tried to avoid calling my mother.” A moment later she grimaces. “Fuck. That was really insensitive, I’m sorry.”

            Jared shrugs it off, taking a sip of tea. “It’s fine,” he says. “I had a lot of friends who had toxic relationships with their families. I guess I’m lucky that while my mom was alive I had a good relationship with her.”

            There’s something so quintessentially Jared in that statement, Monica thinks. An unfailing heartwarming optimism in the face of everything life throws at him. It’s admirable, really.

            “Thank you for the tea recommendation, by the way,” Jared says. “It’s lovely. I’ll be coming here more often.”

            “We could make a weekly thing out of it!” The words are out of Monica’s mouth before she can stop herself.

            But evidently she’s done something right, because Jared’s pale sad face cracks into a smile.

            “Yes,” he says. “We should. I’d like that.”

\----

            Monica works hard to finish her hat before the next Knit Night. She just barely manages it, finishing the crown at midnight the night before (after a frantic phone call to Rachel asking how to decrease). She washes it in the bathroom sink, and lays it out to dry, making a mental note to stop by her apartment after work to pick it up before heading to Uncommon Threads.

            She also brings some more of the gluten-free vegan cookies that everyone loved.

            Uncharacteristically, Jared is late to Knit Night. He apologizes profusely, explaining that there was some kind of crisis at Pied Piper.

            “We’re just happy you made it,” Rachel says, handing him a cookie. He sits down next to Gloria, and Monica takes the hat out of her bag.

            “Here,” she says softly, handing it to him. “It’s for you.”

            Jared’s eyes grow wide, and for a moment Monica thinks he’s about to sob as he turns the hat over in his hands.

            “Thank you, Monica,” he says, putting it on. It just covers his ears, and a few locks of hair poke out endearingly over his forehead. Monica smiles.

            “It looks lovely on you,” she says. “It really matches your eyes.”

            Jared blushes a little. “Thank you,” he says again, reaching up to run his fingers over the brim of the hat.

            “You know,” Rachel says, “I think you’re ready to learn how to read knitting patterns. I just found a very cool one on Ravelry for a felted satchel…”

            “Ooh, I’d be up for that too,” Michael says. Rachel nods and prints 2 copies of the pattern.

            Monica picks out some dark green yarn for the bag, and Rachel rings her up.

            “You can use the same needles you used for the hat,” she says. “Just knit flat instead of joining.”

            Monica scans the pattern. “Nobody told me I’d have to learn a new language!” she says. “K2tog? M1? What does any of this mean?”

            “I’ll go find my knitting dictionary for you,” Rachel says, heading for the back office. “Give me a sec.”

            “Knitting patterns are often in magazines, where space is at a premium, or on the back of yarn labels,” Gloria says. “So people made up abbreviations.”

            “Huh,” Monica says. “Yeah I guess that makes sense. But for an online pattern, why not write it out?”

            Gloria shrugs. “Tradition.”

            Rachel returns with a tiny dog-eared knitting dictionary. “Here you go,” she says, handing it to Monica. “You can borrow that as long as you need, no rush to return it.”

            “Thank you so much,” Monica says, spreading the pattern out on the coffee table. She goes through it with a pen and writes out the definition of every new abbreviation.

\----

            The next day, Monica and Jared go to the same café after their meeting. Jared orders cherry blossom white tea this time, and Monica sticks to her vanilla chai latte.

            “How’s the sweater going?” Monica asks again when they sit down.

            “I finished the front and started a sleeve today,” Jared says. “I…had a nightmare and couldn’t get back to sleep, so I worked on the sweater instead.”

            “I’m sorry you had a bad night,” Monica says. “We could have rescheduled so you could get some sleep. Text me next time, I’ll move our meeting later.”

            Jared shakes his head. “I don’t need that much sleep anyway,” he says. “I’m used to it.”

            “Doesn’t make it okay, or healthy,” Monica says. “I was used to smoking, that didn’t mean it wasn’t destroying my lungs.” She pauses. “You know, it’s been over a month since I quit, and I’m not craving it nearly as bad as I did last time I tried to stop. I guess knitting does actually help.”

            “I’m glad to hear that,” Jared says.

            Monica takes a sip of her latte.

            “This…well, it’s kind of really a personal question and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, and I’m not going to push it,” she starts, “but you mentioned not having a great childhood. Are the nightmares because of that?”

            Jared nods. “I had them under control for a while, but the stress of Pied Piper must have brought them back. It’s a small price to pay for working at such an amazing company, though.”

            “Jared,” Monica says softly, “Pied Piper isn’t worth sacrificing your mental and physical health.”

            Jared shrugs. “It’s not so bad. I’ve had worse.”

            Monica frowns. “It’s still unhealthy. I’m genuinely worried about you.”

            Jared drinks some tea to hide the fact that he’s blushing. It’s been a while since he’s heard those words.

\----

            A few days later, Jared sends Monica an email with a link to something called Bay Area Yarn Fest in San Francisco.

            “Thought you might be interested,” he writes. “It’s in 2 weeks, do you want to go w/me and Gloria? We’re carpooling up and there’s still room in the car.”

            Monica scans the list of events. “Sure,” she writes back. “I can’t wait!”

            Jared responds with an old-fashioned sideways smiley emoticon.

            At Knit Night that week, Jess teases Jared affectionately.

            “You could’ve invited me,” she quips. “I’d love to go.”

            “There’s still space in my car!” Jared says. “You’re welcome to join us!”

            “Nah, I’ve got other plans for the weekend,” Jess says. “Namely, my fucking thesis. But you two lovebirds have fun.”

            Jared blushes bright pink at this. “We’re not lovebirds!” he protests. “Not to mention Gloria will be chaperoning us the entire time.”  
            “Oh, I was planning to find myself a nice lace class and let you two crazy kids wander around on your own,” Gloria says. “But now that you mention it…”

            Jared groans and buries his red face in his half-knit sweater sleeve. The tips of his ears are pink too, and Monica finds herself overcome by a rush of protective tenderness. She flashes back to her dream – now, much to her chagrin, a regular occurrence – and Jared’s big soft hands all over her, and bites the inside of her cheek to distract herself, bowing her head over the purse pattern.

            She is a few rows away from finishing it when Knit Night reaches a close and everyone begins packing up.

            “How exactly do I felt this?” she asks Rachel.

            “There are instructions online, but basically you throw it in the washing machine and then the dryer.” Rachel explains. “Use one of those mesh bra bags, though, or you’ll be picking green wool out of your laundry forever.”

            “Okay,” Monica says. “Thanks for the tip.”

            “No problem. Bring it back next week so I can see how it turned out!” Rachel says, waving goodbye.

\----

            Monica brings her purse to Uncommon Threads even before the following Knit Night – she pops in during her lunch break on Tuesday and says “I want to try making those pretty twisty things like the ones on Jared’s sweater.”

            “Cables.” Rachel says. “Are you sure? It took me a year to work up to cables.”

            “You said there was no wrong way to learn to knit,” Monica challenges.

            “True,” Rachel says. “Okay, I’ll show you how it works. You’ll need this.” She takes a U-shaped piece of plastic out of a cup on the counter. “It’s a cable needle. So what you do – I’ll demonstrate on this swatch here, I’m working on samples for the new Socks that Rock colorways – is you take a couple stitches and slide them onto the cable needle like this. And then, you knit the same number of stitches on the needle, and _then_ the stitches on the cable needle. See?”

            Monica nods. “Yep.”

            Rachel hands her the needles. “Okay, now you try.” Under Rachel’s watchful guidance, Monica repeats the motions for several rows.

            “You’re getting the hang of it!” Rachel says. “Now, I’ve got this lovely red-orange worsted weight merino over here, it would look amazing with your complexion.” She leads Monica to a shelf and pulls down a hank of yarn. “See? A true autumn.”

            It’s the same thing Jared said when she showed up in that beige turtleneck so long ago. Monica touches the yarn. “It’s lovely,” she says.

            “You’ll probably need two of these for a good scarf – which is what I’d recommend as your introduction to cables – and I think I still have a copy of that pattern here somewhere…aha!” Rachel pulls a shiny pamphlet out from a stack on a shelf. The cover shows a woman in a wide scarf with braid-like cables.

            Rachel rings Monica up, and Monica takes the yarn back to her office. She casts on the scarf that night, and by Knit Night has a good six inches of it on the needles.

            At Knit Night, Michael and Monica show off their felted bags, and Jess adds the last scrap of sock yarn to her blanket.

            “Thank god all of this is machine-wash and machine-dry,” she says. “I’d never find enough space in my apartment to block it.”

            “Block?” Monica asks.

            “It’s something you do for knitted pieces, especially wool, double-especially lace.” Jared explains. “You wash it by hand and then pin it out on a flat surface – I use a yoga mat – and let it dry into whatever shape you need it to be in.”

            “Just be wary of the ‘oh that will block out’ trap,” Gloria jokes. “Blocking can fix a weirdly folded edge but it won’t fix a sleeve that’s 6 inches too short.” She gives Jared a look.

            “I followed the pattern!” he protests. “It’s not my fault that my arms aren’t proportionate to my chest circumference!”

            Even Monica laughs at this. “I could’ve told you that!” she says. “You’re too skinny for someone so tall. You gotta hit the gym, bulk up.”

            Jared laughs, flexing a barely-existent bicep. “What, I’m not buff enough for you?”

            “I could probably bench press your weight and then some,” Monica says. “Well, maybe not now, but when I was in college? Easy.”

            “I have no doubt,” Jared says. “I was cox for Vassar’s crew team, and the girls on the team would always jokingly bench-press me. It became a kind of ritual before races.”

            In spite of herself, Monica feels a little jealous at the thought that Jared spent his college years surrounded by buff athletic ladies.

            She’s not quite sure if she’s more jealous of the ladies or of him.

\----

“I had fun tonight,” Monica says as Jared walks her to her door. “Thanks for explaining that cabling thing, I felt so stupid.”

“Hey, you’re not stupid. Six weeks ago you barely knew how to purl, and now look at you, cabling like nobody’s business! That scarf is going to be gorgeous.” Jared smiles.

Monica laughs. “You’re still better at it than I am, that lace shawl you made for Rachel was absolutely gorgeous. With the beads and everything…god, it’s like something from a fairytale.”

Jared blushes. “None of it is really that hard, I can teach you if you’d like.”

“Let me figure out cables first, okay?” Monica laughs, turning her key in the lock. “Would you like to come in for a cup of tea or something?” she asks.

Jared shakes his head. “I should be getting home, Richard and I have a meeting with Laurie in the morning.” He pauses. “We’re still on for Bay Area Yarn Fest this weekend, right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Monica says. “Good night, Jared. Sleep well. I’ll probably see you at Bream-Hall tomorrow.”

“Good night, Monica,” Jared answers.

\----

            On Saturday morning Monica’s phone rings at 6 AM. She fumbles for it and sees Jared’s number on the screen.

            “Morning, sleepyhead!” he says when she answers, repulsively cheerful for the hour. “I’m just leaving Gloria’s now, we’ll be at your apartment in…twenty minutes. Are you ready?”

            “Mm, yeah, of course.” Monica lies, scrambling out of bed. “Definitely.”

            “Great!” Jared says. “See you in twenty!” He hangs up, and Monica rushes through her morning routine, skipping makeup in favor of facial sunscreen, tying her hair into a loose messy bun, and throwing her wallet, makeup case, phone, and current knitting – still the cabled scarf – into a tote bag. She puts on skinny jeans, a grey t-shirt, and plain black flats, and throws a blue cashmere cardigan over it all before putting on her glasses (too early to bother with contacts) and rushing downstairs. She has just enough time to grab a venti coffee from the Starbucks on the corner before Jared arrives.

            “Good morning, Monica!” Jared says as she climbs into the back seat of his ludicrously practical Chevy Volt.  _Of course he drives an electric car,_ Monica thinks.

            “Morning, Jared,” she says. “Hi, Gloria.”  
            “I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Jared says.

            “I normally wear contacts,” Monica explains, “but I had a late night, so my eyes are a little sensitive today.”

            “Ah,” Gloria says. “Are you sure it’s not because you overslept and only had twenty minutes to get ready?”

            “How did you know?!” Monica exclaims, taking a sip of her coffee.

            “Honey, I have 3 kids, 4 grandkids, and a great-granddaughter. I know exactly how to tell when someone’s bullshitting, and when they’ve just woken up. The number of times I called my kids at college and ended up busting them for skipping morning classes with a hangover…” Gloria shakes her head.

            Monica laughs. “That’s a weird superpower,” she says. “Probably a handy one though.”

            Jared laughs too. “I still remember the first time we went to Yarn Fest – Gloria drove me, cause her eyesight was still good and I hadn’t gotten my license yet, and she gave me a 15-minute warning before she arrived. And of course I’d had a late night – this was before Hooli, when I was still at Google – so her phone call woke me up. And I thought I’d gotten away with it, until she said – “

            “We’re stopping for breakfast, because I know I didn’t give you enough time to eat!” Gloria finishes, and laughs too. Monica once again feels like she’s crashing someone’s private party.

            “There’s a great diner near the convention center,” Jared says. “We always get breakfast there, their gluten-free pancakes are amazing.”

            “Sounds great,” Monica says, taking a sip of her coffee.

\----

            Jared isn’t lying about the pancakes. They’re airy and fluffy and unless you knew in advance there’s no way to tell they were made from gluten-free flour. Monica insists on paying for their food – “you’re driving and putting up with my dumb knitting questions, the least I can do is buy breakfast” – and they walk over to the convention center to sign in.

            “Ooh, there’s still space in the spinning class!” Jared says.

            “Spinning? Like, making your own yarn from scratch?” Monica asks.

            Jared nods, and Gloria rolls her eyes.

            “Don’t do it,” she says. “That’s a rabbit hole you’ll never climb out of. It starts with a drop spindle and next thing you know your closet’s full of roving and you’re on the living room floor trying to assemble an authentic 19th century spinning wheel.”

            “You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Jared says. “Besides, you know my rules – I won’t spend more than a hundred dollars today, and I won’t make huge new-hobby investments until I’ve stuck with it for a month.”

            “You’ve got better self-control than me,” Monica says. “I tried to teach myself guitar in college and ended up wasting five hundred dollars and fucking up my nails only to realize that I have zero musical talent and there was a good reason why I gave up piano in elementary school.”

            Gloria squints at her schedule. “Oh, lovely, the bobbin lace class is still open. Well, I’ll see you all later – let’s meet up back here at 7?”

            “Sounds good,” Jared says, and Monica nods. Gloria heads off to her lace class, and Jared to his spinning workshop. Monica finally settles on a beginners’ sock knitting class. She has about half an hour before it starts, so she passes through the sales floor, picking up some lavender-scented purple heathered sock yarn and a set of shiny purple double-pointed needles.

            By the time she meets up with Jared for lunch, Monica has turned the heel of her first sock. She holds it up for Jared to admire.

            “That’s lovely,” he says. “You’re getting really good at this. I think you’ve got a natural talent!”

            Monica laughs. “Nah, I still can’t figure out half the stuff I’ve seen you make. How was your spinning class?”

            Jared makes a faces and produces a few broken bits of yarn from his bag. “Not great,” he says. “I don’t think this is the hobby for me.”

            “Oh, well, you got to try it at least.” Monica says. “What are you planning for the afternoon?”

            “Well,” Jared says, pulling out his schedule, “there’s a yarn-dyeing workshop that looks interesting, and then Rachel and a couple other local yarn store owners are hosting a free-knit hour and I know Rachel’s brought some exclusive stuff just for this, plus Amanda Anderson is doing a reading there.”

            “Amanda who?” Monica asks, spearing a tomato in her salad.

            “Amanda Anderson,” Jared says. “She’s a pretty well-known author and knitting blogger from Vancouver. I have some of her books, I brought one to get it signed.” He pulls a small paperback out of his bag. “I read her blog religiously,” he adds, blushing.

            Monica flips through the book and skims a few of the essays. “She seems really cool, I’ll check her out. And I’ll come with you to both of those, if that’s okay with you.”

            “Of course!” Jared says. “I’d…I’d like that.”

\----

            Jared stands over the dye table with a skein of white wool in his hands and a distressed look on his face.

            “What’s wrong?” Monica asks.

            “There are too many choices,” Jared says. “I…I don’t know what colors I like. I’ve never really had much of a choice.”

            Monica sets down her own wool and bright jewel-tone dyes, and picks up packets of yellow ochre, dark green, blue, and grey dye. “These are the colors I think look best on you,” she says. “If you do some sort of dip-dye or tie-dye with them, I think it’ll look great.”

            “Thank you,” Jared says softly as they return to their station.

            “Of course,” Monica says, setting her dyes down again. “Would you mind helping me untangle this?”

            Jared unwinds the tightly-wound yarn into a lasso-like loop. “The lasso of truth,” he quips, draping it over Monica’s neck. She laughs.

            “The truth is…if Themyscira was a real place I’d never leave,” she jokes. “An island full of cute buff warrior women? Sign me the fuck up.” Jared laughs, unwinding his own yarn.

            Monica mixes the dye in small jam jars, positions them on the table, and spreads the yarn between them in approximately equal-sized chunks. Jared does the same, and then they both sit down and take out their knitting, and wait for the yarn to soak up the dye.

            “You’re almost done with your sweater!” Monica says, watching Jared starting the shoulder decreases for his second sleeve. “That’s great!”

            Jared nods, running his fingers over the knitted fabric. “It still feels so indulgent to be knitting for myself.”

            “Well, you’ve earned it,” Monica says. “And indulgent doesn’t have to mean bad, you know. It’s good to indulge once in a while, do things that make you feel good. Life is short. Knit the sweater, or eat the cake, or have that second glass of cider.” She pauses, bites her lip. Maybe she shouldn’t have let on that she’s been reading the Pied Piper blog.

            Jared looks up from his knitting and scrutinizes Monica for a few seconds before saying “I’m just afraid that…it will be too much. That maybe I won’t be able to stop. I’ve just spent so long denying myself luxuries that sometimes indulging is actually more overwhelming and painful than deprivation.”

            Monica feels a surge of desperate protectiveness. It’s not fair that someone as sweet and caring and kind as Jared thinks that he doesn’t deserve things that make him happy.

            “Well,” she says, “you come to Knit Night once a week, and you relax and knit and joke around and let yourself be happy; what if you set aside one day a week where you take some time to do something you consider too indulgent to do every day? Something like a bath, or working on a project just for yourself, or watching a movie.”

            Jared furrows his brow and works a complicated decrease. “I suppose I could try,” he says. “I went to therapy for a while in college, and the therapist I was seeing tried to get me to do something like that, but…I was studying, and working part time, and I’d keep putting it off.”

            “Okay,” Monica says, “now you’ve got a more reasonable schedule, so you can give it another shot.”

            Jared nods. “I could…I always have a couple free hours on Sunday nights anyway, I could designate that time for something.”

            Monica nods encouragingly. “That’s a good idea, clear your head and relax before the start of a new work week.”

            “Yeah,” Jared says, bowing his head over his sweater sleeve as he shapes the shoulder.

\----

            After the dye class, they walk to the free-knit and reading holding their new yarn in Mason jars of vinegar and water to set the dye.

            Rachel waves them over as they enter. “Look!” she says, placing a small display box on her table. “I’ve got some of Emily’s stitch markers. They’re three dollars for a pack of five, half to me and half to her. It’s her new business venture.”

            “Business venture?” Monica asks.

            “Her father – my ex-husband – has a stupid system where instead of giving her an allowance like a normal person he invests in business ventures. So now she’s started making jewelry and stitch markers and selling them at school and in the shop.” Rachel shrugs. “At least she’s learning how to run a business.”

            Monica picks up a bag of stitch markers decorated with little snowflake and mitten charms. “These are cute,” she says, pulling out her wallet. “And I’ve been meaning to get some markers to use on my scarf so I stop skipping the cables by accident.” She hands Rachel the money and goes to grab a beanbag chair. A few minutes later, Jared plops down next to her, holding a bag of stitch markers with tiny teacup charms.

            The famous Amanda Anderson turns out to be a rather lovely maternal woman with glasses and wild frizzy hair. She’s wearing a loose comfy-looking knit cardigan and the essay she reads – from her newest book – is funny and relatable. After the reading, Jared goes up to talk to her and Monica follows him.

            “I took your advice about the lace,” she hears him say. “I don’t know why the pattern didn’t say to use a lifeline, but if I hadn’t I never would have finished the thing! I was constantly ripping back, it was a mess.”

            Amanda laughs. “That’s what the blog is for,” she says. “And thank you for the muffin recipe, everyone loved them!”

            “You’re welcome,” Jared says as she scribbles a signature in his book. He reads it, blushes, and thanks her before returning to Monica’s side.

            “She really is a lovely woman,” he says. “Like the maternal figure I never had.”

            Monica doesn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she just nods and says “She seems kind. What’s the blog name again?”

            “Yarn Princess,” Jared says. Monica types it into her phone and scrolls through the WordPress page that appears.

            On the drive home, Gloria shows off her finely woven, beautifully delicate bobbin lace, and praises Monica’s sock and her skein of rainbow yarn. Monica gushes over the lace and laughs along with Jared and Gloria’s jokes. For once, she actually feels like part of the family, rather than a weird intruder.

            Jared drops Gloria off before driving Monica to her house, and walks her to the door. On the drive from her house to Monica’s, he’s quiet. He parks in front of Monica’s building, and walks her to the door too.

            “Thank you for bringing me along,” Monica says. “I had a wonderful time.”

            “Thanks for coming along,” Jared says. “Today was…lovely.”

            He pulls something out of his bag. “I’ve…I’ve been working on something for you.” He hands her a tissue-paper parcel, which she opens to reveal a lace shawl like the one he made for Rachel, but in a coppery brown yarn with gold beads.

            “Oh, Jared,” Monica breathes, wrapping it around her shoulders. “It’s so beautiful. Thank you so much.” Impulsively, she stands up to peck him on the lips.

            “Oh!” Jared gasps as she pulls away.

            “Oh, fuck,” Monica says. “I’m so sorry Jared, I totally misread the situation, I’m an idiot. I am so – “     

            He cuts her off by pressing his lips against hers in a stronger, more passionate kiss.

            “You didn’t misread anything,” he breathes. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to do that.”

            “Well,” Monica says, reaching for her keys, “would you like to come inside and…keep doing that?”

\----

            The following week, Jared and Monica show up to Knit Night together, holding hands, Jared in his sweater and Monica in her shawl.

            “About time!” Jess says when they sit down together on the couch. “Michael owes me twenty bucks, he said we’d both graduate before you two got together!”

            “You were placing bets about our relationship?” Jared tries to sound appalled, but can’t resist a smile.

            “Well, I wish you all the best,” Rachel says, shooting Monica a look, over Jared’s head, that says _if you break his heart I will break your kneecaps._

            Monica scoots closer to Jared, putting her arm around his slim waist. “Thanks, Rachel,” she says. Finally, she’s really part of the Uncommon Threads party.

 


End file.
